


In the Soprano’s Dressing Room

by YourObedientPhantom



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Based on the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, F/F, First Time, Smut, character x reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 22:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13176222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourObedientPhantom/pseuds/YourObedientPhantom
Summary: You are a ballet girl in the Paris Opera with an obvious crush on the new leading soprano, Christine Daaé.I wrote this because I have never seen ONE Christine x reader phic. So I guess I’m the first! Enjoy!





	In the Soprano’s Dressing Room

**Author's Note:**

> ALW Phantom. You are a ballet girl for the Paris Opera. You’re close friends with Meg Giry and Christine Daaé.

     You stood backstage, watching Christine Daaé sing the final notes of the show. You smiled to yourself at how far she’s come. The other ballet girls crowded around the wings as the curtain closed. All of you scurried like rats to congratulate the leading soprano. She seemed overwhelmed by the mass of girls hurling towards her and crowding around her, but she was happy to receive so much attention.  
     “Christine!” you cried as your hands intertwined with hers. The other girls shouted compliments at the soprano. “You were amazing! I had no idea how much you’ve improved! It’s like you’re a different person.”  
     “Thank you so much,” she cooed sweetly in the same voice she sang with. “It means a lot.”  
     For just a moment, her smile made your heart flutter. You looked at her innocent blue eyes with curious, wonderful eyes. Sadly, your moment was cut short when Madame Giry slammed her cane on the stage, beckoning the attention of the ballet girls. The other girls all fell silent as soon as the cane hit the floor. A look of terror struck everyone’s face—including the stagehands that were walking by—when Madame Giry opened her mouth to speak.  
     She congratulated Christine, but then turned to you and the ballet girls and shouted, “You were a disgrace!” It was her usual monologue about how terrible you and your fellow dancers were. Then she turned and stared directly at you. “You especially need to practice! All of you go and fix yourselves!” It wasn’t like this was a strange thing. Giry was never fond of you for some reason. Even her daughter thinks that you’re just as good as the other dancers, but Meg’s mother disagreed. You never knew why.  
     The girls began to walk to the ballet foyer. You followed with them when Madame Giry grabbed your arm.  
     “Not you!” she snapped. “You come with me.” She began to drag you off when Christine came running to your rescue. _Thank God_ , you thought. Who knows what Giry was going to do to you.  
     “Don’t you think they’ve all had a long night, Madame?” Christine bartered. “It’s getting very late. I think they all deserve a good rest. Perhaps they can practice in the morning. I’m sure they’ll give a better performance once they’re well rested.”  
     Madame Giry thought for a moment. “Alright,” she spoke as she let you go. “But I expect all of you to work twice as hard tomorrow morning!”  
     “Yes, Madame!” the ballet girls exclaimed. They giggled and cheered as they ran off in all different directions.  
     “Meg!” Madame Giry shouted. “Come.” Meg whispered goodbye to Christine and then went off with her mother. Now was your chance to speak to Christine.  
     “Thank you,” you said. “Who knows what kind of beating I was in for.”  
     “Don’t worry about it,” Christine smiled. “It makes me so upset whenever she handles you that way. Personally, I think you’re the best dancer out there.”  
     Flattered, your face turned red. “Oh. Thank you,” you replied.  
     “I’m serious,” she nodded. “You’ve got nice legs for it.”  
     What a strange compliment. Was it a compliment? You took it as one anyway and laughed. “Thank you, Christine. You really know how to cheer people up.” She was always cheering you up whenever Giry would put you down. Christine squeezed your hands. You didn’t notice how close your faces were until your eyes accidentally darted down to her lips. You blushed with embarrassment when your eyes met with hers again.  
     “I should really be going,” you said out of nervousness. “Thanks again.” You start to walk away when Christine calls for you.  
     “You don’t have to leave,” Christine said. “Come with me to my dressing room.”  
      _Her dressing room?_ Your eyes widened at her offer. “Sure,” you said casually. You strolled together through the dimly lit backstage, gossiping and so on, until you reached the destination. Christine opened the door to find thousands of flowers all over her room.  
     “Christ!” you exclaimed. “Look at all this!”  
     “Wow,” was all Christine said. There were so many flowers she could hardly find her mirror. She paused and put her hand up to the mirror and then continued observing the mountain of flowers. You were surprised there weren’t thousands of people trying to find Christine backstage. You assumed they didn’t let people back there unless they were sponsors or worked at the Opera. Christine closed the door behind you and began removing her costume. When you saw Christine changing into her robe, you turned your back. You didn’t want to invade her privacy.  
     “I don’t need anyone else trying to find me tonight,” Christine sighed. “I just want to relax without anyone bothering me.”  
     You agreed. She deserved to be alone and get some rest. “Well, I guess I’ll be off then,” you said. “Thanks for letting me talk to you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
     “Why are you so determined to leave me?” Christine asked.  
     “What?” you didn’t understand what she meant.  
     “Why are leaving?”  
     “You said you wanted to be alone.”  
     “No,” Christine shook her head as she removed her pointe shoes. “I said I wanted to relax with no one bothering me.”  
     “I don’t want to bother you,” you said.  
     “You aren’t bothering me,” Christine replied. “Come here.”  
     You walked over to the tiny loveseat in the corner of her dressing room and sat down beside her.  
     “I want you to stay here,” she whispered. “With me. It gets awfully lonely. And you’re one of the only girls who I love to be around. Of course there’s Meg, but she’s my best friend. Sometimes she gets a little too talkative.”  
     “That’s nice of you to say,” you said. Christine took your hands again.  
     “I don’t think you get it,” she smiled, staring at your hands. “I’m going to whisper something in your ear. It’s a secret.” Your heart started beating faster and harder against your chest. What was this feeling? Christine leaned over. Her lips lightly touched your cheek as she whispered your name. “I think I’m in love with you.”  
     Overwhelmed with shock, you jerked backwards. Your stomach twisted in knots.  
     Christine saw the look of surprise on your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” she apologized. Before she could finish, you found yourself pressing your lips against the soprano’s. Her lips were soft and warm. When you parted, she was now the one with the look of surprise. It didn’t last long when her eyes lit up with need. She kissed you. She kissed you for what seemed like hours. Your fingers became tangled in her soft, curly hair. Her hands rushed up and down your torso, brushing your hair. You felt her body moving away from you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your lips stayed in touch until she stood and moved to far away. Why was she moving away? You opened your eyes to see her moving quickly across the room to lock the door and dim the lights. She turned the gas lamp down and then moved again towards you. She positioned herself in front of the little loveseat so that she was the only thing you could see. Her silhouette moved fluidly. You could see the shape of her body and there was just enough light to see a few of the details on her face. You looked up at the impossibly beautiful soprano. A few hours ago you were watching her from the wings, fantasizing about her—who wasn’t? Who knew you’d be sitting in her dark dressing room staring as she seduced you.  
     Christine invited you to stand with her. You stood, eager to touch her again. You grabbed her thin waist and stared at her lips as she asked to remove your ballet costume. “May I?” she whispered, tugging at the straps on your shoulders.  
     “Oh, yes,” you replied. “Of course.” The tight clothing put up a fight with Christine’s hands as she struggled to push it down. She passed the leotard and then pushed you back into the loveseat to reach your tights and ballet shoes. Christine tugged them down until she was rewarded at last. She tossed your clothes to the side and admired every detail about your body.  
     “Now it’s my turn,” she whispered. She stood as she did before; she was all you could see. You watched as her slim fingers untied the ribbon around her waist that held her robe together. The fabric slipped down from her shoulders and folded as it hit the floor. You felt a warmth lower down and a tingling sensation. Christine climbed onto you and straddled you as your lips clashed again. Her breasts pressed against your own as you gasped for air. Her tongue flicked against your lips and you accepted her offer. You thought you heard someone knock on the door and panicked for a second, but you remembered Christine locked the door and continued to kiss her. Christine pressed her warmth against yours as her mouth shifted to your jaw, then your neck. She bared her teeth against your neck and bit and sucked on it, just enough to arouse you, but never enough to leave a mark. She moved down to your collarbones and then to your breasts. She kissed your breasts and drew circles around your nipples with her tongue. You gasped with want, your fists balled up. You felt a wetness beneath you, signaling you needed her.  
     “Oh, Christine,” you breathed.  
     “You want me to touch you further down?” Christine asked.  
     “Yes, please,” you begged. “Please, Christine.”  
     She climbed down from your lap and knelt on the floor. She continued her trail from your breasts to your stomach where she brushed against your tender spots. Her kisses became messier and progressively added more licks as she got closer to your warmth until she finally landed a kiss on your wet lips. She pushed your legs further apart and you tried to spread them as far as you could for her. Her tongue flicked against your lips and found her way inside of you. You moaned so loudly that you feared you would be caught. But despite the concern, the passion you felt was stronger. The scent of a million flowers calmed your mind and made you feel fresh and open. You were afraid to open your eyes, but when you did, you saw the curly haired soprano’s head bobbing up and down below you. You shouted her name and your body arched and shimmered with sweat in the dim lighting. As you reached your climax, you let out one last exclamation as you pulled Christine’s hair. You let your body go limp and heaved until you caught your breath while Christine wiped her mouth.  
     “I must return the favor,” you insisted.  
     “No,” Christine argued, “you do so much for me. I’m the one returning the favor.”  
     “But I want to,” you replied. “I’m offering.”  
     “Well,” Christine hesitated, “I can’t refuse an offer like that.”  
     You smiled. “I can’t say I’m as experienced.”  
     “It doesn’t matter if you’re experienced,” Christine smiled back. “As long as you are the one touching me, it all feels like heaven.”  
     You tackled Christine and pinned her to the floor. You repeated most of what she had done to you, kissing her and licking her body, sucking and biting. Your fingertips lightly drew circled around her already hardened nipples. You made an effort to grind your hips against hers, which caused both of you to shudder with pleasure. You reached down until you felt Christine’s warmth. Her legs spread just enough for you to touch her. You parted her lips with your fingers and touched her in a way you thought would feel good. When you were unsure if you were doing it correctly, you glanced at Christine to see her reaction. Her eyes were shut tightly, but she made so many noises that you made the assumption it was working. Her hips bucked beneath you. She screamed your name as her back arched until she became quiet and limp. She, too, had to catch her breath. You crawled up next to her and held her by her waist.  
     “You know, I’ve been thinking about what you told me earlier,” you said, jokingly. “When you said you thought you were in love with me? I came up with my response.”  
     “Oh, really?” Christine giggled, playing with your hair. “What is it?”  
     “I think I’m in love with you too,” you said. “I love you, Christine.”  
     “I love you,” she replied. “But we must keep this a secret. Only we can know.”  
     “Of course,” you nodded. “We don’t want Madame Giry finding out about us, do we?”  
     “God,” Christine groaned. “She’d hate you even more then.”  
     “Who cares? We don’t have to worry about her right now. It’s just us now,” you said. You waited for a response, but received none. “Right?”  
     “Yeah,” Christine replied hesitantly. “Right.”


End file.
